


My King

by imdex



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Altmer - Freeform, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Power Play, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Size Difference, Throne Sex, breton - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 12:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12342561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imdex/pseuds/imdex
Summary: Presence like a queen.He could certainly bow down before her.Another thought raced through his mind, and Melaran hardly managed to stop the wicked smirk that had wanted to manifest upon his lips as he returned his gaze back to the Breton....would she bow before him?





	1. Hard Bit of Business

**Author's Note:**

> Melaran needs more love, okay? I wrote this shit to sabotage Softlytea...and because Melaran needs more love. 
> 
> Throne sex and role play. Also, for those wondering why I just use Imani in all my stories I'm going to fill you in. Imani is strictly shipped with Rulindil in my main...universe? However, because I'm so lazy and don't feel like creating a hundred new characters to ship with every elf I feel needs to get laid, I just use her. 
> 
> So yeah. There's that useless information.  
> Enjoy :3

“This suits you.” 

The elf crossed his arms and looked around the throne room with a smile. 

“It does indeed.” Melaran angled his head to look down at the little Breton thane and his smile turned knowing. “You know, I hear you had something to do with Sybille Stentor’s demise…” 

Imani squirmed on her feet and failed at hiding an amused smirk. 

“Is that so?” she glanced up at the mer. 

“That must have been a hard bit of business. I hear Stentor had been alive for a long, long time.” 

The Breton offered a shrug and eased back against the wall. 

“It was simple enough.” 

“I see.” 

“I’m happy for you, Melaran. This is a position befitting a mer like yourself. Not making sure some idiot keeps breathing.” 

The mer chuckled. 

“I agree. I thank you for your assistance.” 

“You’re welcome.” she grinned up at him sweetly. 

“What will you do now, Thane I?” 

A moment of silence lingered between the only two standing in the room. She looked to be in thought, easily slipping back into the observant silence she so often maintained. 

“Imani.”

Melaran’s brows nearly hit his hairline. 

“E-excuse me?” 

The Breton looked up at him and smiled softly and repeated the name with the same timidness. 

“It’s my name, Melaran.” 

The elf was floored. Nobody knew her name. Only those important to her knew her name. That meant something. The honor of knowing the Dragonborns name struck him dumb for a moment. She dropped her gaze meekly and fiddled with her fingers. 

“Do… do you like it?”

“I,” he shook his head and tried to focus, “I do. Why have you shared this with me?” 

She shrugged and he caught the definite rosy dusting on her cheeks. 

“I guess I’m just way happier for you than I thought.” 

He smiled. 

“Well,” he placed his hand on her shoulder, noting the slightest tensing beneath his palm. “I am honored, Thane Imani.”

“Just Imani.” she looked up at him meekly. “But just when it’s us.” her eyes hardened a fraction. Melaran smirked. 

“Of course.” 

\---

Weeks later found her, clothed in her normal all concealing black armor, before Elisif. As she spoke to the high queen, Melaran allowed his gaze to wander over the Breton a bit more intently. Such a proud stature she held despite her gentle and nervous personality. His eyes lingered on the leather hugging her narrow waist and pulling at her full hips and he shifted his stance to hide his growing problem. 

Presence like a queen. 

That thought brought a curious rise to his brow and this time the elf looked at Elisif. Specifically, her throne. The thought of Imani sitting in her spot clothed in finery and holding on her face a caged look of authority brought a throb to his cock. 

He could certainly bow down before her.

Another thought raced through his mind and Melaran hardly managed to stop the wicked smirk that had wanted to manifest upon his lips as he returned his gaze back to the Breton. 

...would she bow before him?


	2. Please Your King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it pretty much.   
> K, bye.

“My king.” 

His eyes narrowed as the peasant woman approached him, eyes downcast respectfully and fearfully.

“I humbly request-”

He snapped his fingers and took satisfaction in the way she flinched and lifted her fearful gaze to look upon him. The king eased back on his throne, spreading his legs, and pointed to the space before him. 

“Come.”

Her face flushed but her eyes darkened and she nervously obeyed. Once close enough, he sneered up at her. 

“On your knees, wench.” he snarled. 

“Y-yes, my king.” 

She knelt before him and he growled as her eyes lowered to her knees. He relished in the sharp gasp his sudden grip to her hair elicited. Her eye were wide and he felt her try to shrink back beneath his glare. 

“Incompetent fool,” he bit, “must I spell this out for you?”

“I-I-”

“Unless you wish to face my wrath you will please me. Should you choose not to the consequences will be harrowing.”

“I-I’m sorry, king.” she gasped, wincing as his fingers curled harder within her hair. He bent down to bring them nose to nose. 

“Please your king, harlot. You try my patience.” 

She swallowed thickly and he caught the tears gathering in her eyes. 

“Yes, my king.” 

\---

“A mouth like a whore.” he hissed. “S-such a g-good...ahhh.” 

Between his legs, the Breton bobbed her head along his cock, taking as much of him into her mouth and down her throat as she could, whimpering and groaning delightfully around him. His head lulled back and he sighed deeply as he held her head put, feeling her squirm and struggle not to gag around his cock that was pressing against the back of her throat. 

“You wish to attain my aid, peasant?” 

His eyes slitted open and he looked down at the woman who was trying hard to nod her head. Her face was flushed and tears tracked down her cheeks and from her throat came choked whimpers. Such a good servant. Perhaps she did deserve a reward. 

He relinquished his hold to her hair and watched her reel back and off his cock, gasping and choking, and rose to tower above her. 

“Stand up.” 

She obediently rose, clutching her throat, and looked at him nervously. In one quick move he had her spun and shoved forward. She gasped sharply as her palms landed on the arms of his throne and from the rough way her skirts had been shoved up over her hips to expose her to him. 

“M-my king!”

Anything else she may have said crumbled into a desperate whine. His fingers rubbed against her through her panties, coaxing her to arch back. He took pleasure in the alacrity of her surrender and in the noticeable dampness of the fabric beneath his fingertips. 

“You want your king?” 

“Y-yes!” 

His cock twitched and his eyes darkened. The attentions to her covered sex became rougher to her delight. 

“Do you want your king to fuck you, peasant?” 

“P-please!” 

“My court slumbers.” he growled, edging the fabric off to the side to give him a wonderful view of her needy little sex. The Altmer couldn’t help himself, gazing upon her flushed, swollen folds, but to drop to his knees behind her. “You will remain silent or you shall face my ire.” 

The Breton hardly managed to bring her fist to her mouth before his tongue traced along her slit, gave her a broad lap, before he pressed it into her cunt. His hand raised and her knees nearly buckled as his thumb found her clit and began to lazily circle it in time with the thrusts and licks of his tongue. The danger being discovered flared her arousal. She was at the brink after a few moments. 

“K-king, I-!”

His growl vibrated down his tongue straight into her cunt and she nearly sobbed. 

“You will not.” he rose, licking his lips. “Not until you take your king and my release. Do you understand?” 

She whimpered but at his mercy had no choice but to obey. 

“Yes, my king.” 

The slick head of his cock parted her folds and teased up and down her slit. She arched back and issued a needy little sound. He found his mark and with a hardly heard groan began to press into her. The Breton whimpered and her body tensed and despite his power and title over her the mer shushed her as he began to gently thrust against her until he was buried completely within her. He gave her a kind moment to accommodate. 

“Remember,” his voice was a acidic hiss against the back of her neck. “You will not climax until you bring me to my own. You will obey your king.” 

He didn’t give her a moment to respond. The mer began to fuck her with slow but brutally deep strokes and the Breton struggled to keep her composure. It was as if he were seeing to a mundane task while she was struggling through a potent storm. Each lazy thrust of his hips sent throbbing shocks of pleasure scorching through her entire body as if he were taking her rabidly. 

“Look at that.” he mused behind her darkly. “You’re dripping… clenching so tight around m-me. You’re such a good little servant. Taking your kings cock and pleasuring him so splendidly.” 

Her cunt tightened and a pathetic whine escaped her throat as the elf began to fuck her harder and faster. 

“You’re so close. I can feel it. Gods, you’re going to feel so marvellous when you do.” his breath hit her ear and her eyes slipped shut. “But not yet.”

“N-no, my k-king.”

“Good girl.” 

His fingers bruised the skin of her hips and his steady sweeps gave to thorough spearing as he began to seek out his release. She was assaulted all at once by discomfort and mind numbing pleasure and she fought will what little control she had to combat the powerful torrents of pleasure he was forcing her to accept. 

“M-M-”

“Not… y-yet…”

He pried one hand from her hip and the Breton jerked and choked out a gentle cry as he thumbed her clit. 

“N-Not until…”

One brutal snap of his hips buried him within her and through his groan she felt him swell. His other hand released her hip only to land a sharp swat across her bottom and she squeezed him harshly. 

“Milk me, Breton bitch.” his breath hit the back of her shoulder as he gripped her backside painfully. “Come for your king!” 

She was hardly aware of his hand covering her mouth along with the rest of the world as she came with a hoarse cry of his name and did as she was told, thrashing and writhing beneath him. They remained that way for only a brief few seconds before he rose off her and righted their clothing. Out of breath still, the two snuck out of the courtroom and out into the chill of the night. 

“That was…”

Imani smiled at his breathless voice as they stumbled over to a secluded corner of the palace courtyard and sank down to the ground, holding each other tight. 

“Wonderful, my queen.” 

Imani looked up at the elf and smiled softly. 

“I’m no queen, Melaran.” 

“Perhaps not to the rest of them.” he whispered, laying a lingering kiss to her temple. “But you are to me, my darling.” 

She giggled and nuzzled further into his arms, sighing contently. 

“Thank you...my king.”


End file.
